


In Circles

by silversilky



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game), Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silversilky/pseuds/silversilky
Summary: "Hey, Chisato. We're not gonna get away with this, are we?"
Relationships: Aoba Moca/Shirasagi Chisato
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	In Circles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick rework of an older WIP, so it's a bit rough. Hope you enjoy anyway.

_"Hey, Chisato. We're not gonna get away with this, are we?"_

She remembers the first thing Moca said to her through that crackling filter perfectly, the slight tremble in their tone and the way their mouth didn't move. It took her a moment to realize Moca's voice wasn't coming from their body anymore.

The sword—the Transistor is what they called it—should have plunged straight into Chisato. Dead to rights, it was headed right for her in the center of the stage. She didn't have time to move or time to react in any way beyond shock at her attacker's face and a quiet realization that her life was over, before a blur of black and silver flew across her line of sight and a force slammed against her elbow to push her aside. She remembers tripping on her dress and falling to the floor to watch as the blade cut deep—

"Just tug. It's alright. Leave me there, that's not me anymore."

She remembers the sickly wet sound that pulling the sword from her love's body made, how cold it felt once it was in her hands. "Yeah, that's it," Moca said to her as she adjusted her grip on the handle, "you're doing great." Shut up, she wanted to say, but please don't stop talking or she'll fall apart. Her throat was too choked to say anything at all then.

Now, Moca's jacket is heavy on her shoulders. The Transistor is heavy in her hand. Chisato barely feels the burdens, her mind is elsewhere.

"Wanna let me know what's on your mind? Moca can keep a secret. Especially if you're the only one listening." The sword flashes with each synthesized word Moca speaks.

Chisato lifts it up. It's getting easier, she's getting used to the strain. She stares at the centerpiece. Circular and translucent like a camera's lens. "Can you see me from inside there?" she breathes, but at the same time she wonders—what does 'inside' even entail? Does Moca still have some approximation of a body, or are they just consciousness floating in a void? She can't even imagine it.

"Hey there, good looking~."

Well, that's the first question answered at least. Chisato lowers it down and lets out a long, quiet breath. She doesn't know what she's going to do or where they're going to go. How she's going to... going to fix this.

She is going to fix this.

But first she needs to get to Moca's bike before the Process reaches them.

The town is empty. Buildings stand solemnly on either side all around Chisato as she heads onward. Through gaps and down alleyways she can see white, modular growths eating away at the city beyond them. If she turns back she could probably see it gaining ground there as well. The white shoots coming up through cracks in the pavement that crumble under her feet tell her it's almost here. Did the Camerata—Chisato's old lover and that damned idiot's new friends—let this sickness out willingly along with the Transistor? Or did the Process escape at some point along the way? It doesn't really matter either way. The end result is the same for all of them.

"Look at that... damn. They're fast."

Chisato walks to the edge of the bridge and stares out on the horizon to the other side of the city. A white and red mass, almost pulsating in the sun. It's nearly all gone. Small forms crawl and buzz around it like flies on a carcass. "Knew a girl with a cafe out there, good cakes and stuff," Moca says, "I... She got out for sure, she's smart. Got her wife looking after her, too. Just like me."

Looking after them? She let them die. She grips the handle that much tighter, feels the texture of it dig into her fingers. "Yes, I'm sure she's safe."

Moca left their bike somewhere in this direction. There's enough of the original architecture left to navigate well enough, the road she wants is coming up in a few blocks. If the bike hasn't been assimilated yet it'll be waiting for them there. "Ehehe," Moca laughs, "took you long enough to agree with me. You finally want to break your chains and skip town together."

"I suppose so," she replies, but shoots the sword a piercing look for good measure out of sheer force of habit. It only took this long for her to see the object as her lover. "Don't let it get to your head, Moca Aoba."

"Don't got one of those anymore, babe~," Moca says in the closest thing to a singsong tone the synthesized voice can manage.

"..."

"I'll shut up now."

Chisato rounds the corner into an open plaza. She pads across the open space as quietly as she can. It's uncomfortably quiet here, too much open space and not enough cover for her to duck behind if the living embodiments of the Process happen to spot two more organic beings scurrying around their new domain. But this place was never built for death. Or, rather, for a lack of life. That's a more appropriate way of putting it. Chisato soldiers on as best she can.

Three more blocks to the bike. Then two, when she darts through an alleyway to avoid the walls of white material that are slowly popping up around them. Evolved forms of the bleached grass she was seeing before? Perhaps.

"Make a right here. Quickly. I hear something." Moca's voice is hushed.

Chisato follows the instructions and slips into a small gap between two buildings, freezing in place as a shapeless white form stalks past. She doesn't so much as blink until the clicking of its claw-feet has faded into silence again. Her gaze flicks to the sword, pressed up against her side in the narrow passage. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed, I'm right where I wanna be~."

She scoffs. Moca laughs. It's almost as if nothing has changed.

"Hey."

"What is it?" Chisato keeps walking.

"I always loved watching you perform, you know? Well, of course you know. I said that plenty of times. But I never said the rest of it."

"And what was that?"

"I loved watching you perform, but you always, always looked best just after you stepped out of the spotlight. No lights, no microphone, my dirty old coat covering the shine of all those fancy dresses. And no goddamn fake smile on your face." Moca pauses as their voice crackles. "You always looked so beautiful."

Ah. Is Chisato smiling right now? She raises a hand to her mouth and finds the slightest remnant of an entertainer's calm mask. A stress response, she supposes. "I must look quite awful right now, then."

"Yeah."

The corner of her mouth twitches up. A real smile. "Not holding back, are we?"

"No, ma'am. I wouldn't dream of lying to you."

_I love you._

She won't say it until they've cleared the city limits together. When the wind can whip all her words away behind them as they drive on, and on, and on into the light of the setting sun. Then, Chisato will allow herself that freedom. "I see," she says instead, and keeps walking. One more block.

And then the faintest hint of a sound in the distance hits Chisato like a physical force, obliterating any sense of comfort and stopping her heart. Her hand clenches the handle of the sword tightly and her throat closes up. No. Not now. They're so close to their ticket out of town, out of this life. Her face is a frozen mask, her teeth grind together.

She knows that voice.

_"Flying in circles, just trying to land..."_

She knows the song it's singing all too well.

"We need to keep moving," Moca says, and their tone tells her that they've noticed the same thing she has. Chisato lets out a hissing breath. Moca is right. Just... listen to Moca. Only Moca. "One step in front of the other. Forget everything else, alright?"

"Don't patronize me," Chisato replies, though the feeling in her chest isn't subsiding, "I'm the one with a body and I'm getting the two of us out of here no matter the cost." The rest goes unsaid, and Moca allows the silence to sit untouched. Chisato loves them all the more for it even if her heart has no more room for anything but hurt.

The bike is untouched. One last miracle. It's ready and waiting for them with half a tank of gas loaded up, Moca always did take good care of the things they cared about.

Chisato reaches out to grab the handles with both hands and swings her left leg up and over the chassis. She can fix the sword to her back well enough that it won't go flying off on the highway. If she doesn't turn around it's almost like Moca is riding shotgun behind her. Not their usual setup, but she's confident enough in her driving. She can get them out of here. All she has to do is get it running and soon this place will be nothing but a bitter memory.

_"I see you hurting. I do what I can..."_

The song isn't stopping. She can't place its exact source but it can't be far if she's still able to hear it this well. Oh, damn it all to hell, why does it still hurt this much?

Kaoru was the one who betrayed her first.

It doesn't matter why. But did she think she could free Chisato by trapping her inside the Transistor? Did she know that the Process was coming, that her friends were playing with fire they couldn't hope to control? Was _all of it_ for Chisato? So many questions and no answers. Perhaps it would have been better for every one of them if Chisato never had a heart at all.

Would Kaoru risk everything to go back for her? She knows the answer all too well, but she isn't Kaoru and she never will be.

"Babe, we need to move," Moca insists. They're right. She can hear the distant clicking of the Process heading for them, and they won't get another chance to leave like this. "Please. We have to go. You can't save her—"

"No." She cuts off Moca in a voice like ice that comes from deep down in her chest. "I won't."

Chisato steadies her hand by revving the bike's engine, once, twice. It growls to life beneath her, ready to move at her command. It's loud enough to drown out the sound of their enemies, the world, the distant song and her own heartbeat. Her foot hovers just over the accelerator. It's time to go. She won't look back at the city once they leave, not even once.

"Are you there, Moca?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." Chisato sets her gaze on the horizon. "Stay with me."


End file.
